


it goes running through the soul, like the stories told of old

by ashintuku



Series: fox on the run [6]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Unacknowledged Familial Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 22:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashintuku/pseuds/ashintuku
Summary: "Now where is he?”“Who?”“Don’t play dumb, Yondu, it doesn’t suit you.”





	it goes running through the soul, like the stories told of old

Contraxia was an out-of-the-way dumpster fire that hid its stink and decomposing mess in bright lights and courtesan houses. 

It was pretty much perfect for a ragtag group of exiled Ravagers to kick back and relax after a successful heist or three, so Yondu set course for the planet circling a dying sun and announced a bit of shore leave to his crew. To say the reception to the news was well-received would be a goddamn understatement, if he said so himself. And he did. So there was that. 

Getting up from his chair, he left the bridge crew to handle the actual flyin’ and made his way to a lower level of the third Quadrant, where the star of their recent successes (and his constant goddamn bane) hid out in his little closet of a room. 

He only got his own room ‘cause he was little and some of the crew were just the wrong kinda disreputable. Once he got big enough to punch his way out of a situation, he’d be stuck with the rest of ‘em, and they could use the closet space for what it was _actually_ meant for. So he kept telling himself anyway. 

He stopped in front of the door, leaned against the wall, and after a minute kicked at the door to make his presence known. It opened another couple minutes later, because Quill was an obstinate little jackass. It kinda made him proud. 

“What?” said the obstinate little jackass with all the grudging poutiness at his disposal. He was ten years old and growin’ like a goddman weed, and Yondu eyed his pants and how he could see his ankles. Again. He’d have to pop into the tailor’s, make sure the kid was properly dressed. 

“We’re goin’ on shore leave,” Yondu said, looking down his nose at the brat. Quill stared right back up at him, chin tilted up and eyes narrowed. His music player was clipped to his belt, the headphones around his neck; he kept a protective hand over the little bit of tech, and Yondu quietly approved. Don’t trust no one not to steal your shit, even someone you’ve got a bit of an understandin’ with. “Don’t think there’s much for a pipsqueak like you t’do on Contraxia, but it wouldn’t hurt none to stretch out yer legs and breathe real air.” 

“What’s the catch?” 

Yondu smirked, and Quill wrinkled his nose at him in his usual face of ‘oh crap I sounded just like you right now, didn’t I’. It was cute. It made him laugh. 

(It didn’t make him feel anythin’ paternal, no siree. He was smarter than that; the crew’d eat him alive if he acted at all like the boy’s daddy.) 

“No catch, boy. Last heist we did well is all – crew deserves a break. Crew involves _you_.” Whether anyone liked it or not. “You gon’ hole up on the ship or you comin’ down?” 

Quill looked away from him and bit his lip, his thinkin’ face. Yondu waited him out, knowing it wouldn’t take too long; Quill then looked up, nodding a little, and Yondu gave him a look. 

“Use yer words, Quill, yer always good fer that.” 

“I’m good for thievin’, too,” Quill muttered before rubbing his neck; his fingers poked at the scar from his translator chip, and Yondu reached out and cuffed him. “Hey!” 

“Don’t play with that. Now gimme yer damn answer or I’m assignin’ ya chores while we go down an’ enjoy ourselves.” 

“I wanna come down, too,” Quill said, rubbing his head now where Yondu had got him. He was scowling, but it wasn’t an angry one; just frustrated. Annoyed, more like. Probably a bad sign he got annoyed when his captain cuffed ‘im, instead of worried, but he still listened to orders and that was all that mattered, really. “There might be shops or somethin’.” 

“We’re goin’ down honest customers, boy, you best not—” 

“I ain’t gonna steal anything!” Quill scowled up at him again, and this time it was an angry scowl, so Yondu scoffed but didn’t push. Quill settled down, and Yondu pushed himself off of the wall. 

(He had a feelin’ that Horuz would call him soft again if he had seen the exchange. Horuz had liked Quill when they first kept ‘im on, if only because he’d reminded him of his own little boy back on his home planet. But then Quill had grown up a little, and Horuz stopped seein’ him as a scared little boy and more like crew, and that was that. Bit rough, really; Horuz had been one of the loyal ones to stick around after the mess and all.) 

“Alright, then. Fit your li’l bag with whatever you need, we’re gon’ get there in a few hours’ time. We’re stayin’ down for about two nights, so make sure ya pack right.” 

“Sure, whatever.” 

“What was that now, boy?” 

Quill sighed, long-suffering and predictable, before turning around and pressing his fist to his chest in the Ravager salute. 

“Yes, _captain_.” 

“Better,” Yondu nodded. He reached out and ruffled Quill’s hair, and Quill tried to duck away but not too seriously; he looked happy for the briefest of seconds before the scowl was back and he was holing himself back up in his room. 

The door shut, and Yondu stared at it for a moment before turning to see Kraglin walking down the hallway; his timing as perfect and a bit suspicious as always. 

“Yer gonna need someone to keep an eye on the boy, Cap’n,” he said when he got up to Yondu, glancing at the door before looking at him again. “I can, if ya want.” 

“Nah, Kraglin, I’ll keep an eye on ‘im,” Yondu said, cracking his neck and side-eyeing his first mate with a frown. “Not much in the mood fer courtesans myself, and he’ll listen t’me if no one else.” 

Kraglin made a face, but didn’t contest the point; Quill would listen to Kraglin, but he’d just as often ignore him and do what he liked. Kraglin could threaten and cajole all he liked: at the end of the day, Quill only _really_ listened to Yondu, and who knew why, really. 

(Yondu knew Kraglin and Tullk and them all had their theories, but they could keep those theories and shove ‘em up their cracks for all he cared. Quill probably knew Yondu could do what he liked, being the captain and all, up to and includin’ following up on threats. No other reason.) 

“If yer sure, Cap’n,” Kraglin said, and Yondu nodded and waved him away. Kraglin continued down the hall as if that had been his purpose in the first place, and after a moment Yondu headed back to the bridge to make sure the crew hadn’t gotten them off course somehow. 

Never did know with the likes of Halfnut. 

~+~

The _Eclector_ docked in one of the many docking ports just outside of Contraxia’s atmo, crew going to the shuttles to fly down the planet’s surface and park. Yondu dragged Quill out of his room as he stomped by the closet door, Kraglin and Tullk behind him with Oblo bringin’ up the rear. 

They clambered into Yondu’s M-Ship, Kraglin taking the co-pilot’s seat and Yondu pointing to one of the passenger chairs for Quill to sit on. Quill sat without making a fuss, pulling on his headphones and fiddling with his music player; a moment later, the tinny sounds of music could be heard beneath the rummaging and hub-bub of getting a ship ready to fly. 

Yondu sat down in the pilot’s chair, glancing back to see Tullk sit near to Quill and Oblo take the opposite side; all of them keepin’ quiet as they prepared to go. Yondu then pressed a button on his control panel, leaning forward a little as he spoke. 

“We’re goin’ down to Contraxia for a total of two days – you ain’t back in your ships, headed for the _Eclector_ at the right time, we’re leavin’ yer sorry asses behind. I don’t care what you do while we’re down there, but we’re gon’ be payin’ customers while here. No stealin’, no murderin’ unless someone gives ya cause, and don’t piss off the locals. Captain out.” He released the button, leaned back, and looked to Kraglin. 

“Alright, Kraglin, let’s get goin’.” 

“Yes, Cap’n! 

~+~

“Is it safe to taste?” 

Yondu looked down at Quill, who was staring up at the sky, bundled in his Ravager reds and watching the snow with somethin’ like wonder. He wondered if the boy had never seen snow before. 

“Should be,” he said after a moment, looking up at the falling snow. “S’an affect of the planet’s sun dyin’, but it ain’t nuclear or nothin’. Don’t go eatin’ handfuls of the crap, though.” Quill nodded, and then leaned his head back even further and stuck his tongue out to catch snowflakes. 

There was no one else around, and Yondu gave himself the moment to just smile and keep a hand on the boy’s shoulder, leading him through the crowds. Locals and other visitors watched the two of them and smiled at the sight, and Yondu knew for certain they thought they were lookin’ at a father and son enjoyin’ a day out. 

It wasn’t the case, never would be, but it was easier to let them believe that than know the truth. 

They walked into the local market, and Quill looked away from the snow to start looking at the different stalls. Some had food, while others had crappy pieces of tech that were being overpriced. Others had toys and some had an assortment of different ‘exotics’; a flower from Centauri-IV, an axe from the Kree, a doll from Zen-Whoberi, salvaged from the wreckage. 

Nothing from Terra, and Yondu hadn’t expected that, but it sure looked like Quill had if the slump of his shoulders said anything. The captain sighed, tugging the boy towards one of the food stalls with food safe for everyone in the galaxy to eat. 

“Pick somethin’,” he said, nudging the boy forward. Quill looked at him, eyes a little wide, before he scampered off to do as he was told; looking at the menu and going over each choice. Yondu knew it’d take him a few minutes, so he crossed his arms and prepared to wait him out. 

The sensation of someone comin’ up behind him made him tense, though, and he slowly turned around to see someone he hadn’t seen in over two years. 

She hadn’t changed, not in any important ways. Her hair was longer and she wore a new coat, and the crew behind her were unfamiliar and female – but he knew those eyes better than most, and he knew he really shouldn’t be seein’ them at all. 

“Aleta,” he said, dropping his arms to set his hands on his hips. He pushed his coat back, freeing up the Yaka, and Aleta glanced at it before looking at him. “Wasn’t expectin’ you.” 

“That can get you killed,” she said after a moment, before walking over to him. Yondu tensed, getting ready for anything, but all she did was stop less than a foot in front of him and examine him. He felt a little bit like he was gettin’ an x-ray. “You look well.” 

“I shouldn’t be seein’ ya at all. Stakar—” 

“Stakar doesn’t need to know,” Aleta waved her hand, dismissing the Centaurian’s concern, and Yondu frowned. “When he told me what had happened, I demanded the right to speak with you myself. He denied me. I’ve decided to take things into my own hands.” 

“...You two fightin’ again?” 

Aleta smiled, and it was sharp but it was warm and familiar, and everything almost felt like the good old days again. “We are _always_ fighting. Now where is he?” 

“Who?” 

“Don’t play dumb, Yondu, it doesn’t suit you,” Aleta looked around, gaze landing on Quill still looking at the menu. “Ah. I see. Putting him to work?” 

Yondu frowned, crossing his arms again, but he didn’t hide his Yaka again and Aleta looked like she approved even when she didn’t bother looking at him. Aleta was like that, though; wary and always ready to fight but never obvious about it. It took years for him to be able to read her expressions at all. 

“Can’t have layabouts on the crew,” he said after a moment, and Aleta smiled a little, finally looking over at him. “He’s good fer squeezin’ int’little places. Good fer distractions, too, but he’s gettin’ too big to play little lost boy.” 

“Boys his age do grow like weeds,” Aleta agreed, turning fully to look back at Yondu. “...has he been worth it, Yondu?” 

Yondu looked away from her, rubbing the back of his neck; feeling the scars from the battlemasters ridge under the calluses on his hand before he dropped it back to his side. He seemed to curve inward, then, as he thought over her question. 

_Had_ he been worth it? 

Breathing in through his nose, red eyes glancing over to the boy as he finally seemed to settle on something, he nodded a little. Quill then turned and headed back to Yondu, only pausing when he saw the unfamiliar woman next to him. He shuffled over to Yondu’s side, hiding a little behind him, and Yondu indulged the both of them and set a hand in his hair; fingers threaded through, a comfort he hadn’t offered the boy since he was eight and still cried himself to sleep. 

“Worth every lost unit,” he said after a moment, before looking down at Quill. “You figgur out what ye wanted yet, boy?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, still staring at Aleta. Aleta looked at him for a long moment, taking in the entire picture in front of her, before she smiled and looked back at Yondu. 

“We’ll see each other again, Yondu,” she promised, reaching out and clasping his elbow before she turned and left without another word; her crewmates diligently following behind her. Yondu watcher after her back long after she disappeared, only looking away when Quill tugged on his jacket and he looked down at the kid. 

“Who _was_ that?” 

Yondu frowned, ruffling up the boy’s hair a little roughly, before nudging him back to the food stall and following after him. 

“Old acquaintance o’mine – another Ravager. Shouldn’t’ve been here,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t go lookin’ fer any other Ravager crew, Quill, y’hear me?” 

“Why not? Aren’t we all Ravagers?” 

“If y’know what’s good fer ya, you won’t go lookin’ fer ‘em. Ain’t a good idea, and I don’t need you losin’ yer fool head ‘cause ya wanted to make some friends.” 

Quill pouted, looking away from Yondu, and the Centaurian sighed and shook his head, walkin’ up to the seller. He paused just before he approached, looking back at Quill expectantly. 

“Come up here and tell me what ya want, son, c’mon.” 

Quill blinked, staring at him with an unreadable expression, and Yondu was about to snap at him or whistle when he hurried to his side, pointing to what he wanted from the menu for the seller. Yondu handed over the appropriate units (after haggling for a minute – folks like these, they loved a good haggle, and Yondu’d always been good at it. Had enough experience, listenin’ to the slavers haggle with buyers back in darker days. Used to listen to them – used to learn like that) and handed Quill the little treat, before he started moving away. Quill followed behind him, diligently eating his snack and keeping within arm’s reach. 

“She seemed like she liked you, y’know.” 

Yondu glanced at Quill from the corner of his eye, before reaching out and cuffing him lightly on the back of his head. Quill jerked forward, almost dropping his treat; glaring up at Yondu when he caught himself. 

“Hey!” 

“Don’t talk ‘bout what you don’t know, boy,” Yondu said. Quill stuck his tongue out at him, and the Ravager rolled his eyes and turned away; hiding a smirk. “Now let’s figgur out a good place t’sleep fer the night, ‘cause I don’t know ‘bout you, but I ain’t lookin’ t’sleep out of doors.” 

“Why can’t we stay where the others are stayin’?” 

Yondu laughed, loud and hoarse, and Quill jumped like he hadn’t expected it. 

“We’ll wait t’spend the night there when yer older, Quill. Now c’mon, ‘fore it gets too late and all the good rooms are taken.” 

He placed a hand on Quill’s shoulder, guiding him through the crowds; and Quill followed, eating his treat and lookin’ at peace for the moment, and Yondu thought once again that it had been worth it. 

It all had been worth it.


End file.
